


starshower

by JoJolightningfingers



Series: uncut, unpolished [6]
Category: Dragon Ball, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJolightningfingers/pseuds/JoJolightningfingers
Summary: He's a Saiyan, so the tendency is to give simple solutions to problems. An enemy is in the way; blast it to oblivion. Hunger and exhaustion are solved with food and sleep.The weather inconveniencing the only person he's loved as much as his family, his master, his world? Move heaven and earth to make him happy.
Relationships: Future Trunks Briefs/Clay Terran
Series: uncut, unpolished [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816336
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	starshower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All_Star_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_Star_Angel/gifts).



> This fic written completely unironically for an audience of two. canon characterization optional. read at your own risk.
> 
> Ace, you know what you did. How dare you get me back into shipping crack after eleven years of abstinence. In a crossover, even! This is a new low for me.

He's a Saiyan, so the tendency is to give simple solutions to problems. An enemy is in the way; blast it to oblivion. Hunger and exhaustion are solved with food and sleep.

The weather inconveniencing the only person he's loved as much as his family, his master, his world? Move heaven and earth to make him happy.

Clay's face falls watching the forecast that morning: cloudy in the evening, stormy through the night. Right on the day of the Daenid meteor shower. Trunks has no personal interest in the stars himself--his troubles are all earthbound--but he feels a sympathetic pain in his chest when Clay puts his head on the table. He looks heartbroken.

That cannot stand.

Any good scientist experiments, first. His mother helps in secret, while Clay is busy tuning up the gravity chamber for his father. The clouds gather as they work, thunder rolls in the distance. The rain falls and soaks them but it doesn't matter.

Clay is subdued the whole day. Trunks tries to cheer him, as best he knows how. It's never been his strong suit. "Hey, Clay? I, uh..." What the hell can he even finish with, that doesn't sound insultingly disingenuous? 'Don't worry about the meteors'? The ones he'll never get another chance to see if he misses this one? Yeah, real sensitive. "I've got it," he says instead, firmly in the hopes of Clay believing him. Then he realizes he didn't provide context for that and stammers, "Th-the meteors. I've got it."  
  
Clay looks at him, bewildered and dazed. "...What are you talking about?"

That would give the game away. Trunks presses his lips tight together. "I've got it," he repeats. "Look. Just. Meet me outside at dusk. Before it starts, right?"

"...Yeah...?" Clay frowns, shoulders curving in, to keep the hurt hidden. "So? We won't be able to see it."  
  
"Yes we _will_ ," he growls. "Trust me."

When the sun goes down, Clay is out at the hill, glaring bitterly at the blanket of clouds blotting out the sky. "It starts soon," he grouses at Trunks, who stands by his shoulder and glances at his watch. He has to time this right. "Trunks, come on, we're not gonna get to see it. This is dumb." And like that, the frustrations Clay has been repressing all day spill out in a hissed curse and a rough stomp of his feet.  
  
"Clay?"  
  
"Yeah, what- Oh." Clay jolts back half a step, the impending tirade cut short by Trunks' arms, hugged tight around his middle underneath his own. "Wh- what's wrong? Babe?" He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Trunks' in return, petting between his shoulder blades, the way he always does to comfort him.

What did he do to deserve this man? Clay's dreams lost in stardust and he doesn't hesitate to push aside his disappointment and tend to the people he loves. Trunks grips him tighter, steels his jaw the same way he did when he committed himself to war against the people who stole his Gohan from him.  
  
Whatever he can do to repay that selflessness, he will do if it kills him. He draws in a deep breath and lifts his chin to look Clay in the eyes. "Hold on tight to me and don't let go."

No better time than now to bare his greatest secret to Clay. Or at least, no worse time.

Trunks can travel at many times the speed of sound, if he so chooses; but that will not avail him here, even with his ki projected out in front of him like a windbreak to combat the atmosphere and keep Clay safe on the ascent. Even still, when he surges up from the ground like one of his friend's beloved rockets, Clay shouts in petrified shock, arms turning to a vise around Trunk's shoulders.  
  
"Trunks! What- How the- What the _fuck_ is happening?!" There's terror and amazement wrapped up in him all at once, Trunks can sense his heartbeat rabbiting. "You can fly?! Since when the hell can you _fly?!_ "

Since I was four, he thinks and doesn't say. Instead he says, "Stop talking. You're gonna bite your tongue. Also, make sure you pop your ears so the pressure doesn't burst them."

The thick stratus clouds rush down to meet them, like falling in reverse; Trunks focuses his ki a little thicker and plows through them, holding tight to his precious passenger, who has gone wordless but seems to be in danger of hyperventilating. All around them the air thrums with the low drone of constant thunder, soft flashes of nascent lightning that hop tiny gaps in the belly of the cloud that formed them. None of them touch the two travelers, and they won't; ki repels the elements, they've found. Moving through the clouds is alternating flying and swimming, rushes of dark and light and silver and Trunks wonders, is this how the universe was birthed?

And then they're through. And Clay stops breathing.

Above the rolling thunder, the sky is awash with moonlight, stars scattered about like a spilt bag of sugar, and the Daenids _dance_. Trunks stops, hanging there in midair--his arms around Clay, Clay's arms around him, like they're waltzing in time with the stars falling from the heavens.

Gods, he thinks he gets it now, why Clay is so besotted with this great unknown. He's not breathing either.

Clay is statue-still against him, his chin hooked over his shoulder. "Oh," he says, a soft and quiet thing overwhelmed with emotion, and Trunks remembers quickly the part two to this whole midair date.

"Here," he says softly, and effortlessly hefts his boyfriend up, recentering his own ki so that he can sit, crosslegged, and ease Clay into his lap, arms still belted firmly around his waist. "I'm sorry for how sudden that was, I just... wanted to surprise you."

"Well you sure did that." Clay swallows, clutching tight to Trunk's arms and wrists and hands like he thinks Trunks would _ever_ let him go. "God, what a view," he sighs, still sounding watery and weak with ardor, leaning some weight back into Trunks' chest and just. Staring. He doesn't move at all, he hardly breathes. "There's so _many_."

And he doesn't say _anything_ after that. It's the first time he's ever been in the presence of Clay Terran, struck dumb. Worrisome, somewhat; he'll never forgive himself if he broke his boyfriend somehow. But something warm and wet drops onto his hand after the first couple minutes and Trunks squeezes him wordlessly, in hopes that it will still his trembling.

Up here, they are alone to bear witness to the tears of angels. Up here, there is no world save for each other. Trunks presses his forehead to the back of Clay's shoulder and breathes in unsteadily, listens to the drum of his heart.

They reanimate, come back to life when the meteors are gone, releasing breaths that they didn't know they held. Trunks feels Clay relax in his grip and keeps quiet, not knowing what to say. The sky makes a tough act to follow.

Clay solves that problem for him. He'd make a good Saiyan. The sky is too empty and quiet? Fill it with words. "So why didn't you tell me? That you could do this." He gestures at the nothing of their surroundings. "Like yeah, you scared the shit out of me picking me up off the ground like that, but right now, I mean... look at this. This is so far beyond cool I can't even _describe_ how cool it is." He twists his head a little to try and meet his eyes. " _How_ are you even doing this? Are you, like, some kind of android?"

What a fucking _joke_ , the universe will never give him a break with the irony. Trunks buries his face in Clay's shoulder and laughs until he's lightheaded. "No," he says, refusing to elaborate why he finds that so bitterly funny. "No, I'm not an android. I'm... okay, this is going to sound... ridiculous. But I promise it's true."

"Dude, we're like a mile in the air right now and I don't know how, I am willing to believe any explanation you can give me."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm... part alien. A time traveler, from a... dead future, I guess you'd call it. I was trained how to fly when I was really young."

"...You know, that somehow doesn't surprise me at all." Clay bumps his head against Trunks' collarbone, a loving little nudge. "So answer my other question. Why didn't you tell me before kidnapping me off into space, mister alien man?" The little song in the nickname makes Trunks warm all over, despite the altitude.

"I..." The reason feels stupid, now that he's seen how Clay reacts to it. How could he ever have... "...was afraid, I guess," he mumbles, curving himself around Clay's back, drifting on the night wind singing to and fro. "That you'd be scared of me. Or think I was weird."

"Hey, no offense, but I thought you were plenty weird before tonight." Trunks chuckles into the warm, rough fabric of Clay's jacket. "Now you're weird and _incredibly fucking cool._ I don't know anybody else who can fly without a plane, y'know!"

"You know my father." That's totally beside the point, but he feels compelled to correct him anyway.

"Wait, _he's_ \-- Oh, you said _part_ alien. That makes sense. ...If it helps, he's the same kind of weird you are."

"Gee, thanks."

"My point is!" Clay straightens in his hold and, alarmingly, starts to struggle in Trunks' grip. His heart nearly out and stops.

"What are you _doing?_ " he gasps, adrenaline flaring. He wants to restrain Clay but he's afraid of hurting him by panicking.

In his indecisive moment, Clay has all the time he needs to finish what he was doing--which turns out to be nothing more than turning around in Trunks' lap so that they're face to face, Clay's strong legs wrapped around his waist and his arms hooked loosely on his shoulders and the echoes of shooting stars glittering in his awestruck eyes. Trunks falls in love all over again.

"My point is, this is just icing on the cake," Clay continues, gentler. Hands on his shoulderblades. Just like always. "And... Thank you. So, _so_ fucking much- god, you really risked me _hating_ you just to make me happy? I don't think I could love you _more_ right now."

Later Trunks will think quietly that the only time he's ever cried more in his life was in his shattered future, under rain and blood and the agony of loss. This is the inverse of that, the relief of gain and gratefulness. Clay soothes him, fretful ("Oh jeez, I didn't mean to make you cry!") and kisses him, sweet and tender. He tastes like salt and moonlight, space dust and earth and _home_.

**Author's Note:**

> for those interested: yes there is lore behind this pairing. no i can't explain it, ask ace. yes the ship has a name, it is called clunks.


End file.
